


Movement

by inabodycastofglass



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7006825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inabodycastofglass/pseuds/inabodycastofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathanael knew it wasn't a good idea to fall for Marinette.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Movement

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in December.

Nathanael knew Marinette liked Adrian. Everyone knew. Everyone except Adrian. Nathaniel knew before his crush developed. But that didn’t matter. You couldn’t stop feelings.

When he first found himself watching her in class, he thought it was just because she was interesting; a spot of colour in his black and white world. When he first drew her, it was because she was a good model; she had a nice form and a wide array of expressions.

But, slowly, it evolved. He would look at her for a moment longer than the others, smiling when she walked in. When he would usually move onto another subject, a tree or an animal, he would draw her again.

When she caught him staring, turning around in the middle of class to see what that intense feeling was, and smiled at him, he blushed and his heart skipped.

And with that the floodgates opened.

His eyes were drawn to her even when she was behaving. He drew her outside of class; in the library, the park, at home.  He thought about her constantly, constantly, constantly!

She became more than a figure to him. He thought about stories, about movement, for the first time. Of characters and plot and love.

He lived his life in stills. There, time didn’t matter. He could be ever patient, plucking away at things, making them perfect.

Now his mind was rushed. Scenarios flashed from one to the next. Just as he began to examine one, another would push it aside. They were as fleeting as Marinette’s expression. Never in his life had he left so many sketches half done, but he just couldn’t focus.

Except for the hours he spent contemplating her nape. In those moments, his thoughts were languid, moving slowly, deliberately along the curve of her neck into her shoulder, up and down the uneven line of her hair, where the pale skin, blended with yellow undertones, faded into shiny black, streaks of brown, blue, purple, shifting when she moved. How had he never noticed her before?

When she took a moment to say good morning to him a little more than a month into the school year, pausing in her conversation with Alya to smile at him, he dreamed of her for the first time.

That was when the fear first began to strike him. Before it was subtle. He would shift his sketchbook from sight when people got too near, and look away when she glanced in his direction. But now it was crippling. Every word, every moment, every breath and his heart would beat in his throat. He was sure she could read his mind, and she would know.

She could never know.

Because she liked Adrian. And he’d known that. Everyone had know that. But he’d fallen for her anyway.

And now her antics weren’t so endearing. Now, they just hurt. And he hated watching them, but he couldn’t look away. It kept him grounded, kept his hopes down. She would never like him, even if his dreams told him she could.


End file.
